


tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe

by isleofgeorgee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: ? maybe, Alcohol, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Oh also, Ok bye, Wrote this, bone apple teeth, had a breakdown, i guess uh, just a little smth for an au and also because i wanted dnf, kinda coffee shop au but its very brief so, no beta we die like ur mom LOL gottemmmm, not rlly heavy tho its just at the start cos theyre drunk idekkk, this is bad but whatever ecks dee lol, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isleofgeorgee/pseuds/isleofgeorgee
Summary: He stops in his step when he sees the same tuft of dark hair from months before behind the counter, similar to the one he saw in a bar in Florida months ago.George stares back.It takes them both a moment before Dream snaps out of it and clears his throat. He makes his way to George while the latter is still looking at him with a crazed expression on his face."Uh," Dream starts. "Um, hi?""Hi-" George manages to squeak out. "Um, what can I uh, get you?"
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 174





	tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe

**Author's Note:**

> i dont write ok so if its bad its not my fault :rolling eyes: /lh  
> very self indulgent because i think about them alot also i have no idea how to post here i am so sad
> 
> also this is actually for an au im making lol, basically they were the sun and moon gods from their past lives (hence title ecks dee) n they got reincarnated hehehehehhe

Dream thinks they've met before.

It's almost cliché, really. He meets George in a bar in the middle of summer, in the midst of a drunk crowd and bright neon lights that illuminated the blissed out faces of strangers on the dance floor.

George was heavily influenced with alcohol, the smell clinging to his breath and clothes as he laughs loudly and sways carelessly like he's having the time of his life, and Dream just stands there dumbfounded.

It doesn't help that George keeps looking at him with a stupid, lazy grin plastered on his face.  _ He's intoxicating _ , Dream thinks.

He has a sense of familiarity around George. It's the way their lips clash roughly but slot perfectly like puzzle pieces. It's the way their clammy hands grip one another and fit as if they were made together in the same mold. 

_ Maybe they're lovers from a past life _ .

When the night ends, Dream is heavily disappointed when George strides past the doors. He heaves out a drawn-out, saddened sigh when he realizes he's never gonna see him again.

  
  
  
  
  


He sees him again in a quaint cafe during the winter in England.

The smell of the place is warm and welcoming. It reeks of freshly baked pastries and coffee, contrasting the biting cold of the streets outside. 

He stops in his step when he sees the same tuft of dark hair from months before behind the counter, similar to the one he saw in a bar in Florida months ago.

George stares back.

It takes them both a moment before Dream snaps out of it and clears his throat. He makes his way to George while the latter is still looking at him with a crazed expression on his face. 

"Uh," Dream starts. "Um, hi?" 

"Hi-" George manages to squeak out. "Um, what can I uh, get you?" He says it so fast, almost tripping on his words as he does so. He takes out a small yellow notepad and the pen sitting on his chest pocket. There's a pink tint spread across his cheeks while he averts his gaze and looks at anywhere but  _ Dream _ . 

Dream catches on, noticing the way George avoids looking at him while he takes his order. He ponders for a moment, fidgeting before he comes up with the decision for something warm and bitter. 

George takes note of this, scribbling nearly unintelligible words on paper.

Dream thinks he has nicer hands up close.

When he pays for the drink, he goes and looks for a spot next to the window. Surely enough, he finds one, secluded from the rest of the other tables and chairs where the few people in the place chatted with accents heavy on their tongues. 

He doesn't belong here.

Yet when he sees George amongst these people, he feels like home.

When his name is called, he gets up to retrieve his drink and mutters a small 'thank you' under his breath.

He tries to not think about how his fingers brushed against Georges briefly as he turns red in his seat.

  
  
  
  
  


Dream makes a promise to visit the cafe and George again after that.

  
  
  
  
  


He comes again, and again, and again. Eventually, they become closer.

They don’t talk about the kiss they shared during the drunk haziness a long time ago. They don’t talk about the heated tension between them when they found each other again.

It was in the past, and they both agreed silently to not bring it up. 

It doesn’t stop him from noticing the small details, though. He’s entranced by the way George’s skin  _ glows _ under sunlight, especially during the times when the skies are orange and the sun is retiring for the day. He often finds himself lost in hazel eyes that hold the universe in them. George is beautiful and Dream almost feels like feeble dirt underneath his gaze.

He must’ve been staring too long for comfort when George scoffs light-heartedly. “Penny for your thoughts?” The corners of George’s mouth curves up, reaching his eyes. There it is again, that damned smile that makes Dream feel like he’s on fire. 

_ He’s so screwed _ . 

_ [The soft sounds of the ocean waves from nearby echoes in his ears.] _

He shakes his head. “I’m alright, George. I’m just thinking.” 

“About..?” 

“It’s really nothing!” Dream reassures, probably for himself as well. George’s eyebrows rise to his hairline at that. The blond sighs and nudges George’s shoulder gently. The other man hums. 

“Is my face that interesting to look at?” his hazel eyes look up at Dream, his voice teasing. Dream makes a face and chuckles lowly, “Maybe.” He says, popping the ‘e’.

George is quiet for a moment before a small giggle escapes his lips. “The cold really got to your head now, Dream.”

“Oh?” Dream snorts, “Did it, now?” 

“That, or you’re just stupid,” George retorts back and rolls his eyes. He shuffles a bit closer to the other man. Dream stiffens but doesn’t move away, which George takes as an ‘okay’ and leans his head on Dream's shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while, until the moon is rising steadily to the sky and their noses turn numb from the cold, winter breeze.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s spring when Dream has to come back home to America.

He was planning to settle longer, but when a pandemic sweeps out, he finds himself worrying for his family and cat back in Florida. 

When he tells George, the latter sounds disappointed but meets him at the airport anyways, hugging him and saying his farewells to the blond.

Dream promises to keep in touch, and George just nods as the other makes his way to his flight.

He wishes he could stay in George’s arms. 

  
  
  
  
  


Dream decides to come back the next summer.

He excitedly calls George on discord at 2 am, a grin on his face as he purchases himself a ticket to the UK. George was just giggling the whole time, looking forward to meeting his friend again.

He can see him again. This time, Dream makes sure to make the most of it.

  
  
  
  
  


Funnily enough, they meet in a Pizza Hut in Brighton when Dream arrives. 

It wasn’t _ bad _ . It’s just the fact that it feels so foreign to Dream than when he met George in a small cafe in a quieter part of town. He doesn’t particularly mind, though.

He doesn’t mind when he sees him again. He feels all the jetlag from the flight wash away when George is in front of him in a white shirt and skinny jeans, his grin reaching up to his eyes. 

They talk. George talks more than he does on call, and Dream listens intently. The brunet man's voice sounds like music, like melodies in his ears. He indulges in it, revelling in the sound of George’s voice.

  
  
  
  
  


They’re back in the same place. 

They’re back in the same place when Dream starred far too long on George’s face and when they stayed leaning onto each other until the sun set into the horizon on a calm winter day.

Dream hears the same soft hums of the ocean from where they’re sitting right now, near the coast of the rocky sand Brighton beach. 

Their thighs and ankles touch as they huddled close to each other, hands clasped together on top of their laps. Dream continues to rub small circles on the back of Georges hand, to which the latter squeezes his tightly in return. 

“So,” George breaks the silence.

“So...” Dream repeats after him, unsure of what to say.

“You’re back,” George supplies the rest of his sentence. “I’m glad.”

Dream turns his head to look at the brunet, and finds him looking back. 

“Of course I am,” He says, voice barely above a whisper. “I always do.”

George gives him a soft smile at that, burying his face again on Dream’s shoulder.

There’s an unspoken confession between the two of them, but they know. Even if they don’t exchange declarations of love out loud, they _ know _ . They know it when Dream lifts George’s face up to face him. They know it when they lean close, breathes dancing together over parted lips. They know it when they kiss again, softer and with more emotion.

Maybe when Dream met George in a bar then, he was right.

Maybe they’ve met in the past. Maybe they were star-crossed lovers that was rewarded a second chance in the afterlife.

And Dream wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> if u want my twt its @_cchamporado XDDDD i tweet abt dnf and draw alot lmfaofaoesfjiddg


End file.
